


Moonstone

by serein (koshitsu_kamira)



Series: semiprecious [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Courtship, Developing Relationship, Hybrids, M/M, Marking, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 08:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10081070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koshitsu_kamira/pseuds/serein
Summary: Youngho is aliterallove sick puppy, trying to woo a seemingly reluctant Taeil.





	

The tense atmosphere enveloping the house lifted the minute the grim-faced inspectors stepped over the threshold, bidding goodbye with a curt nod towards a haggard looking Taeyong and Youngho, the latter keeping an eye on the official’s grey, nondescript sedan until the vehicle left the property line, melting against the low-hanging clouds that promised a light rain. Shutting the entrance door, Youngho watched the younger man gather the government issued certificates scattered on the kitchen table, and stack the seemingly endless sheets of neatly printed documents together, hissing when he acquired a fresh paper cut; looking up, he caught the other’s exasperated gaze, then laughed a bit as reassurance, albeit he sounded bone weary. “Only a couple years left,” Taeyong said jokingly, sweeping the reports into a tattered folder about to fall apart at the edges, “the kids are growing up so fast anyway,” he added, grin lopsided, but Youngho could tell he was already dreading the next examination required for the legal guardians of underage hybrids which involved personal interviews (or more like drawn-out interrogations), on-site visits and awkward silences. Youngho knew from previous experience how stressful the entire procedure was: he remembered the anxiety crushing his lungs, the sleepless nights spent wrapped up in Taeil’s embrace who had always been much better at showing a brave front; the next day he would nervously clutch onto the elder’s hand, refusing to leave even during the private discussions.

Although the social and political emancipation of hybrids thankfully had begun decades ago, full integration was still unimaginable, especially in a society entrenched with age-old prejudice, a deep-seated bigotry having developed across generations, ingrained within the collective subconscious till the word itself had become distorted, carrying implications unintended. After the legislation abolishing the subjugation of hybrids, shelters had popped up throughout the country to accommodate former pets, often abandoned by the highway, deserted alleys without proper identification or clothing, whose best case scenario for surviving was getting admitted to a legitimate sanctuary so their journey towards independent life could begin. On the other hand, if they became entrapped in a brothel catering to the audience that included ex-owners, the so-called aficionados, worse yet, breeders, the future remained bleak, still, not quite as dismal as of those experiment subjects hidden away at maximum security laboratories where humanity showed its ugliest side and cruelty reigned absolute. In a sense, Youngho was considered lucky since he had belonged to an upper middle class family which members were more preoccupied with showing off their purebred doberman pinscher like regular people would flaunt prized dogs at fairs and exhibitions, meaning he had suffered emotional neglect, however, was spared of the brutality commonplace elsewhere.

“I will prepare dinner, meanwhile, please fetch Taeil,” Taeyong muttered absently, pulling out a hefty skillet from the kitchen cupboard, the pan clanging harshly against the stove, “make sure he joins us,” he added, setting vegetables on the chopping board, a frown creasing his forehead that only deepened by the seconds, “the kids would sulk the whole evening otherwise.” Ears drooping slightly at the image, Youngho nodded, leaving the younger man to cook, momentarily pausing to think, stubby tail rigid, before he walked outside the sizeable field they had for a backyard, massive fir trees bordering the territory, no trace left of the farm Taeyong had inherited, then converted into a safe haven, what they now called a home; inhaling the fresh mountain air, he began trailing a familiar scent.

Taeil was sitting on a boundary post, legs dangling six feet above the ground - how he managed to get situated there was a mystery itself; sometimes he resembled strongly of a wild cat as he prowled the premises, hissing and batting at anything unfamiliar, constantly attack ready, a fact Youngho had learnt the hard way when the other hybrid almost broke his neck upon the first meeting. The shiba inu was prone to ambush strangers, uninvited guests or anyone he associated with danger, notably government officials, children the lone exception who universally adored the aloof male, a sentiment reciprocated; initially, Youngho felt wronged and mildly jealous seeing the ease Taeil accepted Minhyung’s arrival, kindly welcoming the shy beagle pup. In comparison, long months had passed until Youngho could initiate physical contact without acquiring a bruise or two throughout the process - albeit Taeil’s past was kept a secret, judging on the pale bite marks, scars marring his skin, the reaction he gave to certain noises, phrases, the presence of dominant canine hybrids conveyed a rather horrifying possibility.

“They are gone,” Youngho said, grabbing the elder’s ankle to gain his attention, tugging a little, “we should go back,” looking up, he blinked away the wan sunlight filtering across evergreen leaves; the horizon was glowing magenta and orange, reminiscent of a giant bonfire Taeyong would set late Spring, during the annual hiking trip around the nearest mountain. Taeil remained silent, face expressionless, full-out ignoring his companion, only deigning to whisper an annoyed “leave me alone” after Youngho started pulling on his legs, cold fingers having sneaked under the socks; “don’t be like this,” the younger boy whined, ears wilting beneath the harsh glare sent his way, “why are you mad at me again?” he lamented, pouting. Actually, Youngho was aware of the reason for Taeil’s testy behaviour, knew his blunder justified the resentment, the reminder still visible, peeking out from the sweatshirt despite its relatively high neckline - spotting the clean impression his teeth had left behind, screaming possession, he couldn’t help the satisfaction creeping within his thoughts, the smirk spreading along his lips. Youngho wanted to shout “mine,” tumble Taeil into the soft mounds of fallen leaves so their individual scent would mingle, cling on hair and skin, create an intimate trace that didn’t fade in days, whereas he understood very well they should set a comfortable pace which settled each party’s needs, soothed their fears; therefore, aiming a repentant smile ahead, he waited attentively.

Eyes narrowed, Taeil lightly kicked the other’s hand, “step aside, idiot,” he warned, turning his back to Youngho and began climbing down the fence, movements graceful, bushy tail wagging, tickling the younger’s face who caught the petite hybrid midway, gently lowering him, afterwards pushing his nose against the slight crevice between the neck and the shoulder. Taeil immediately stiffened in Youngho’s arms, spine ramrod straight as he responded to a perceived attack, body operating on autopilot; I’m sorry,” the younger murmured against bare skin, abashed, loosening his hold, the crown of his lowered head brushing the other boy’s jawline - “don’t apologize for everything, it makes you look weak,” came the reply. Intertwining their fingers, Taeil gradually relaxed, leaning back on Youngho’s chest, tail a reassuring weight above the younger man’s waist, “anyway, I’m not mad,” he remarked, attempting to sound irked, “where did you get that idea, stupid?” he admonished, tone regardless carrying the notes of regret the other hybrid detested: he childishly wished to bring nothing but happiness. “Still,” Taeil continued, warmth permeating his voice, “would you mind if I also...,” he trailed off, clearly flustered, squirming in place, stuttering while Youngho processed the request, then finally catched on the intended meaning - perhaps, he was truly  a fool - “oh,” the younger blurted, a giddy blush crawling up his neck, suffusing his cheeks a scarlet red, “yes, please,” he babbled, nodding frantically, drunk on wonder and the sweet scent of the other’s delight.


End file.
